


Unexpected Lessons

by Lisafer



Category: Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:28:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s one more thing Owen needs to learn from his knight-master before his Ordeal, but maybe Wyldon isn’t the best person to teach this particular lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Lessons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ubiquitous](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ubiquitous).



> Written as part of Goldenlake's Merry Ficmas Exchange

“Wyl tells me you’re to have your Ordeal in four days’ time. Is that correct?” Lady Vivenne passed him a plate full of scones after delicately selecting one. She smoothed raspberry preserves over her own scone, somehow making the preparation of food an art form.

“It is, my lady.” Breakfast with Vivenne was one of the stranger aspects of being back in the capital with his knight-master. It was unreal to think that he had been dining in the muck and grime of war with soldiers and knights only a fortnight before, and now he was stressing over which fork to use at a noblewoman’s table.

“Three other squires are to have their Ordeals first,” Wyldon said gruffly, news bulletin in his hand. He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes flicking up to his wife’s for the briefest of moments. “Prosper of Tameran will be the first to go.”

“You must be terrified, Owen.” Her voice was elegant and clipped, with the accent considered most favorable in Tortall. The way she said his name never failed to make Owen smile, the slightest bit.

“I’m nervous,” he admitted. “This is the last step between me and manhood.”

Vivenne smiled, turning her gaze to Lord Wyldon, who nodded curtly in response. “Indeed – you’re almost there.”

~~~

“My husband has trained you to become a knight,” she said that evening, entering his quarters and closed the door behind her. “But it’s also his duty to make certain you are a man.”

Owen furrowed his eyebrows, trying to recall the exact words Wyldon had told him, three years before when he was made a squire. “He said he would make a man of me, and work me like a dog.”

Vivenne smiled coyly. “He’s done well in turning you into a knight, but there are certainly areas he’s neglected in your education.” She crossed the room slowly; Owen was reminded of the large cats in the king’s menagerie, stalking its prey.

“Like what?” Owen asked hoarsely.

“Did you talk about lovemaking?”

“H-he talked about canoodling once, and the repercussions of romance while I’m still a squire.” His hands felt clammy and his stomach knotted nervously.

Vivenne came closer. So close that he could smell her delicate perfume, and feel the warmth from her body. “Let me guess – it was an awkward lecture about responsibility and appropriate behavior, rather than a conversation about all the wonderful joys that can come of two people who are drawn to each other?”

He nodded, remembering the painful discussion with Lord Wyldon.

“Have you given thought to exploring such a thing, Squire Owen?”

“N-no, my lady,” he rasped, backing up as far as he could. His spine was pressed against his bureau, drawer handles pushing painfully into his flesh.

~~~

It wasn’t as though he was completely chaste; he’d kissed a girl in an inn, some fifteen miles out of Cavall when he was heading off to a war. She had been a stable hand named Marielle, and like all girls who knew her way around horses or weapons, Owen couldn’t help but like her.

Kissing Marielle, though… it felt more functional than passionate. Their hands were heavy and awkward, their lips pressed together forcefully, rather than the gentle coaxing and teasing that came with Vivenne’s kisses. It hadn’t been quite so much fun, were he to be completely honest with himself.

“The key to kissing a woman,” she murmured, touching his lips with the tips of her fingers, “is to think of seduction. Where do you want the kiss to lead?”

He had vague ideas of where he wanted the kisses to take them, but he didn’t know how to express it. But she seemed to understand, taking his hands in hers and placing them on her hips. He pulled her closer to him, their bodies pressed together from chests to thighs.

“Do you want more?” she asked, her whisper tickling his ear. The way she leaned her body against his made him feel weak in the knees, but it also fired something within him. Something he wanted very much.

He nodded, losing himself in her kisses.

~~~

“A woman wants to be wooed,” she told him, tugging gently at his curls. “She will want you to romance her, make her feel like the most precious thing in your life – at least in that moment.”

“How?” Wasn’t it enough that they’d spent the entire last evening kissing and touching? Was that not romance?

“You must display your love and desire in every move you make.” She caressed his cheek and dropped light kisses on his forehead. “Even when you do something as purely functional as removing clothing.”

Owen choked and pushed her away. “My lady, I can’t—”

“Why in Mithros’s name not?”

“You’re married to my knight-master!” he protested. “We probably shouldn’t even be kissing like this!”

She laughed prettily, tossing her head. She wasn’t a young woman, but there was spirit and vitality in everything she did. Younger than her husband by a good seven years, she was in what some women would consider the prime of their lives. “Wyl doesn’t mind,” she assured him. “We’ve been through this before.”

“What?” Owen pushed her hands – which were roaming under his shirt – away from him, holding them with one hand. It did little to dissuade her; her eyes evoked even more passion, which made the young knight-to-be far more nervous than he’d already been.

“He’s had squires before,” she replied, “and it’s his job to make sure they know the ways of the world. My husband opposes the notion of the flesh-trade, especially when a more personal education can be offered.”

Owen gaped. “He – he wants you to have your way with me?”

“He kills two birds with one stone,” she told him. “He is assured that you will be well-educated, and he knows that I will have the variety and excitement that twenty-five years of marriage has made lacking in my life.”

“You don’t love him?”

“Love is far deeper and more complicated than anything you know,” she said, smiling wistfully. “I love him more than life itself, and he is well aware of that.”

~~~

Kissing while lying down, with Vivenne’s legs wrapped around him, was the exact thing Owen needed to keep his mind off of his Ordeal. Her full lips were luscious, he decided. Luscious and petal-soft and delicious. She coaxed and teased, her tongue lightly touching his and making him want more – far more than he felt he should desire from his knight-master’s wife.

Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, running from his abdomen to chest. “Are you ready for more?” she murmured.

“Y-yes,” he rasped. He shivered when she pushed his shirt upward, tracing a path of feather-light kisses from his sternum to navel.

“You have the softest skin,” she said, before retracing the same path – this time with her tongue. She pulled his shirt off entirely, pausing only to kiss him deeply.

“I thought I was supposed to undress you,” Owen complained playfully.

Vivenne rose from the bed gracefully and tossed him a wicked smile. When he moved to stand, as well, she shook her head. “Stay there,” she whispered. Her nimble fingers quickly unfastened her velvet over-robe and she removed it. The gown beneath was thin and delicate, a material unlike anything he’d seen. It clung to her body in all the places that made Owen blush.

When she propped up her foot on the edge of the bed, in order to take off her silk stockings, Owen could not keep from participating. As he rolled one stocking down over her knee, he yielded to fit of boldness and pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh.

“That’s what I meant by making a woman feel wanted,” she said breathily. Together they pulled down her other stocking, and Owen made a point of caressing her leg with his hands and lips. He loved the feeling he got whenever she gasped, whenever she clenched her hands in his hair. He wanted to know what else might make her lose her breath.

~~~

“It’s late,” she whispered huskily, propping herself up on one arm. With her free hand she traced the contours of Owen’s face and followed up with light kisses. “You need your rest, and I need to return to Wyldon.”

Owen gulped. No matter what their arrangement was, he thought it strange to think of Vivenne climbing into her husband’s bed after spending the last few hours in his, doing things that she should’ve been doing with Wyldon instead.

She merely grinned when he expressed his concerns.

“How do I compare?” he asked meekly. He was more than afraid of the answer.

Climbing out of bed, she began to collect the clothing that had been strewn about. “It’s difficult to,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “What we did this evening were things that Wyl doesn’t necessarily like to do as often.”

 _“What?”_ Memories of all their caresses overwhelmed him, along with incredulity that anyone wouldn’t want to partake in it. Vivenne had patiently taught him so many ways men and women could pleasure each other, and each moment had been more thrilling than the last.

“Some people prefer things that others don’t,” she said, shrugging. “He’s a man with simple tastes. His idea of adventure is making love in the dining room instead of the bedroom.” She donned her clothing quickly and efficiently. “He doesn’t have that spark of creativity and curiosity you have.”

“So what do you do with him?”

“Consider all of this,” she paused, gesturing to the bed, “as an appetizer. We’ve been slowly building up to a delicious main course. I’m more accustomed to going straight to the sumptuous meal without fiddling about.”

~~~

These night-lessons, as Owen thought of them, did quite a bit to keep his mind off of his impending Ordeal. It was a little strange, sparring with Lord Wyldon in the mornings after spending so much time in his wife’s arms, but the older man didn’t act as though anything were amiss. He talked about the upcoming vigil, what kind of assignment Owen could look forward to, if he survived the Ordeal. He didn’t talk about Owen’s evening lessons, instead simply focusing on continuing the ongoing education he’d offered for the last three years.

And on the final evening Owen had free – one day before he would have his vigil – Vivenne came to his room one last time.

“Are you ready?” she asked. Instead of coming through the main entrance to his room, she had slipped in through the door between his room and Wyldon’s. And it was obvious why. Her hair was already down and she was dressed in night clothes – not the kind of nightshirt that Owen wore, but a gown that was sheer and lacy. She had a robe that seemed just as useless when it came to modesty or warmth, but Owen wasn’t complaining. The purpose of this clothing, he suspected, was something entirely different. And its goal was met.

“More than ready,” he rasped, pulling her into his arms. The last two evenings with Lady Vivenne had emboldened him. He knew what she liked in his touch, and he aimed to please.

~~~

“Your stamina is impressive, all things considered,” she told him breathlessly.

Owen panted something indecipherable, closing his eyes. So this was what everyone went on about? Suddenly the fuss made more sense to him. “Mithros, that was jolly! Was this what your first time was like?”

“Oh, Goddess no.” She laughed, brushing a long lock of hair away from her face. “It was my wedding night, and I was as frightened as a fox in a hunt. But he was gentle, and with time I learned that it could be fun.”

“Did you like it?” Owen couldn’t imagine not liking it.

“It’s different for women,” she said, lacing her fingers through his. “Remember that, when you eventually get married. Noblewomen are expected to be virginal and pure, and have only half a clue of what to expect. But it can be painful, if they’re not eased into things naturally.”

“Was it painful for you?”

“It could’ve been worse,” she replied, laughing shortly. “Just use this information to put your wife at ease, to make her feel cherished and loved.”

Owen frowned. “Is it different, when you’re in love?”

“Everything’s different when you’re in love.” Bringing his knuckles to her lips, she kissed each of them lightly. “You’ll be an amazing husband to some lucky girl someday.”

“Is that your way of telling me I did well?”

“I thought hearing me cry out to the gods would’ve assured you of that.”

He blushed. “I was nice to hear, to be honest.”

“Communication is the key to everything, my dear. The night is young, and I have much more to teach you.”

 _“More?”_

“Yes. I’m taking advantage of your youth.” She kissed him deeply – one of those kisses that made his insides melt and his whole body ache for more than just kisses. “I think you can go longer this time, and I can show you so many more positions.”

~~~

“Is it wrong that I think I love you, a little bit?” He bit his lip nervously, awaiting her answer. Her face was hidden from him; she rested face-down on the bed, her head hanging over the end.

“I think it’s the kind of affection that will wane,” she said finally, before sitting up to face him. “I have loved every man I’ve been with, in some capacity. But you will learn the difference between types of love with time and experience.”

“What if I don’t?” Owen asked softly. “What if I die in the Chamber and this is all I ever learn?”

“Then this will be the sweetest love you’ve ever known. Do you think there’s anything to regret?”

A quick shake of the head answered her.

“Neither do I,” she said, kissing his forehead. “I should go.”

“I wish you would sleep here,” he said softly.

“I can’t. That’s one of the conditions Wyl and I have set in place: I cannot sleep with any man but him, no matter what else I might do. He’s the only man I’ve ever fallen asleep with, and I intend to keep it that way.” Vivenne smiled wistfully. “It’s my way of reminding him that he is the person I love most in the world.”

“He’s lucky to have you,” Owen told her, holding her robe out to her.

“I was lucky to have you, as well,” she told him, caressing his scarred cheek with the back of her hand. “I think you’ll be able to face the Chamber as a young man who’s experienced everything he should by the age of eighteen.”

“And maybe some things a lad my age should feel fortunate about.”

She laughed again – that low, sultry laugh that did things to his body now that would not have happened three days before, when he did not know what it was like to physically love such a woman – and headed toward the door between Owen’s room and his knight-master’s. “Sleep well, Squire Owen. Tomorrow is an important day.”

“So this is it?” he asked, sadness creeping into his voice.

“We’ll see,” she replied, with a touch of wickedness in hers.


End file.
